"Well, now we's settled in our mansion," said Jimmy, "s'pose we takes a night off an' goes t' see a show."
"What kind?"
"Well, we kin git under de roof fer a quarter at a regular theater, or we kin git a seat in de top gallery of a continuous performance fer fifteen coppers. Den dere's de movin'-picture shows dat cost a nickel. I generally takes dem in, 'cause I ain't allers so flush wid de coin as I am now. What d'ye say t' a movin'-picture show?"
"I've no objections. I never saw one. What are they like?"
"Never saw one! Crimps! If I didn't see a show once in a while I'd feel like a dead one!"
"That is, I suppose I never saw one," went on Dick, with a puzzled look. "Of course I can't remember what happened before—before I got to the box," he added with a smile.
"Well, we'll take in a movin'-picture show, an' mebby youse kin remember if youse ever saw one before."
"All right," agreed Dick, and they started out together.
The Bowery was ablaze with lights and there was quite a crowd in the street. It was the first night Dick had been out since his illness, and, before that, he could not remember having seen New York lighted up. He was much interested in everything he saw.
"Wait a minute," exclaimed Jimmy, as they passed a tobacco store. "I've got t' git some cigarettes. I'm all out."